


Tumblr Prompts

by marsisaplanet



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blind Date, F/M, Fluff, It Chapter 2 Week, Jealousy, Lemon, Librarians au, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Reddie, Smut, Stanlon - Freeform, Stenbrough, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsisaplanet/pseuds/marsisaplanet
Summary: Everything from prompts from incomplete challenge weeks to asks <3





	1. Superhero AU (It Chapter 2 Week Day 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all wanted a twist aye??? This isn't just a Superhero AU, it's a Miraculous Ladybug AU !!!!

“Chat Noir, can’t you focus for just once!” Eddie said as they jumped over the rooftops in Paris.

“No can do bugaboo,” Richie replied before vaulting over a chimney. “I’ll make puns even in the most dire situations.” 

“Chat, seriously,” Eddie said, coming to a stop. “Hawkmoth has made another akuma, we need to focus on the task at hand!” 

“I believe you mean the task at wing, Ladybug,” Richie replied, twirling his leather tail in his right hand. 

“Chat!” Eddie said, folding his arms. “People are in danger, what if your father was akumatized?” Richie winced at that, despite the fact that the two didn’t know each other’s civilian identities, that didn’t stop them from communicating about their private lives.

Ladybug knew all too well about his home life, from his cold isolative father to his dead mother. That didn’t stop him from loving his father though. The man may be private, but he cared enough to make sure Richie was safe at all times. 

“Sorry bugaboo. . . “ Richie murmured. Eddie’s eyes softened at that. 

“It’s okay kitty,” he replied, placing a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “I’ve just had a busy week is all.”

“You’re quite the busy bee, aren’t you Ladybug?” Richie said with a wink.

“Enough with the puns!” Eddie called before swinging with his yo-yo again. “We’ve got a city to save!” 

. . .

Soon enough, Ladybug had de-evilized the akuma and everything was back to normal. The two of them sat on top of the Eiffel Tower, their legs swung over the guard railing, staring down at Paris below them. 

“Do you ever wish Master Fu hadn’t chosen us?” Eddie whispered. Richie looked up in surprise.

“. . . Sometimes,” Richie replied slowly. “Why? You-you aren’t thinking about giving back your miraculous are you?”

“No!” Eddie said defensively. “No, no, no,” Eddie laughed softly. “I just . . . .”

“Just . . .?”

“There’s got to be someone more qualified to do a job like this than me.” Eddie whispered, pulling at the latex of his super suit. 

“Ladybug,” Richie said, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “There isn’t a single person I could think of more qualified to save Paris than you,” he whispered. 

Eddie stared back at his partner, crinkles highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. Eddie placed a hand onto Richie’s knee before murmuring softly;

“Thank you . . .”

“It’s okay,” Richie said, looking back down into his partner’s dark brown eyes. “We all need to be reassured about it sometimes.” Then, the sound of beeping interrupted their tender conversation causing the two of them to look away from each other hastily. Richie let out a sigh before brushing a hand through his hair. 

“I’m about to detra-”

“Detransform,” Richie finished. “I know.” Eddie felt himself choke on air, wanting so desperately to open up and help the boy he didn’t completely know, but that he loved so dearly. 

“I’ll see you at the next patrol Chat Noir,” Eddie said, placing a kiss onto his partner’s cheek before swinging over Paris’ skyline. Richie brought a hand up to his cheek, his jaw slightly dropped before a smile stretched across his pale face. 

“I’ll see you around bugaboo,” he whispered to himself.


	2. Jealous (It Chapter 2 Week Day 2)

Stan felt his back slam against the shelf behind him, briefly worried about the books he would have to clean up later, before gazing up at his boyfriend. Mike stared down at him, his warm eyes so shockingly dark, his breath causing Stan’s skin to prickle. Stan heard himself gasp when Mike began to kiss and nip his neck, hands moving to cup his ass through his khakis.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you lamb,” Mike whispered hotly into Stan’s ear, his hands running up and down Stan’s legs. 

“I prefer the way you’re looking at me right now,” Stan said, daring to look up at his partner with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Mike resisted the urge to do something utterly sinful right there in the middle of the nonfiction section of the library, but he knew better. 

“Backroom,” he whispered, dragging his boyfriend back to the front of the library, swiftly grabbing his leather messenger bag and a set of keys, before waltzing downstairs and hastily unlocking the ‘employees only’ filing room that no one ever went in. 

“What if Greta hears?” Stan murmured, grinding slowly on the back of Mike’s ass as his boyfriend struggled to unlock the door, rotating through the different keys. Mike let out a groan, resting his forehead against the door. 

“Fuck Greta,” he said, turning around to pull his boyfriend in for a kiss. Stan nibbled on Mike’s bottom lip, running a hand up his chest before letting it rest at the back of his neck, pulling them closer. 

“Lemme try,” Stan murmured against Mike’s lips. Mike nodded, handing Stan the keys who opened it instantly.

“What the fuck,” Mike said shaking his head, a dreamy smile on his face. Stan let out a humorous breath through his nose before tugging Mike into the room. Instantly Stan was backed against the door, causing it to slam shut. Stan looked up at Mike through lidded eyes and fluttering eyelashes. Mike dipped his head slightly to meet Stan’s lips, a hand intertwined with his partner’s. 

Kissing was always a dance between the two of them. It could be as soft as swaying slowly under the stars in their backyard or as intense as the music video for Christina Aguilera’s ‘Dirty’. Today it was the second one. 

Mike tugged Stan desperately closer, in search for more contact. Stan pushed himself off of the door and began to back up Mike instead, taking him closer to the filing cabinets throughout the room. Mike’s hands began to unbutton Stan’s polo, which Stan quickly pulled over and folded as if it were second nature. Mike pulling his own shirt off as well. Stan’s hands were on Mike’s fly as soon as he finished, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans and tugging them to the ground before teasingly running his hand over Mike’s hardening bulge. 

Mike moaned, his head falling into the crook of Stan’s neck when he began to pump his cock slowly. Stan massaged Mike’s scalp with his left hand as he continued to jerk Mike off, occasionally running his thumb over Mike’s tip. Stan licked beads of precum off of his thumb, maintaining eye contact with his boyfriend before Mike bridged their lips together for another steamy kiss. Mike unbuckled Stan’s belt with one hand, the other kneading his boyfriend’s ass through his khakis. 

Stan held back a whimper when his pants hit the floor, Mike’s hands no longer touching him through clothing, but roughly manhandling his cheeks. 

“Mikey,” Stan whispered into his boyfriend’s neck. “Dove, please.” he begged. Mike only chuckled in response.

“No one else can do this to you, huh?” Mike replied, using a finger to lift Stan’s chin so that he was looking at him. It was strange to see Mike this possessive, but something about it made Stan want more. He wanted another angle, something deeper, something harder.

“Bend me over,” Stan said, staring straight into Mike’s eyes with something that would almost be considered a glare if he wasn’t so turned on. Mike didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed a small bottle of lube from his messenger bag before backing Stan up against one of the filing cabinets.

Stan spread his legs open, practically pushing his ass backwards as Mike’s lubed middle and index fingers breached his hole. He felt himself moan as soon as Mike began to circle his fingers inside him, scissoring them opened and closed, curling them right in that sweet spot. 

“Dove, more,” Stan managed to say, chest flat against the filing cabinet as Mike began to pump his fingers in and out faster. “Y-yeah” Stan moaned out, his blonde curls covering his eyes, mouth wide open. 

Mike chuckled darkly, a sound almost like a growl coming from his chest. Stan began to moan in earnest then as Mike slipped in a third finger, aimed right at Stan’s prostate.

“You’re so good Stan,” Mike said, bending over his boyfriend to whisper in his ear. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” Stan whimpered at that. “And only for me,” Mike continued, voice even lower and almost raspy. 

“Only for you baby,” Stan moaned out looking up at his boyfriend, eyes dark, sweat dripping from his forehead. Mike curled his fingers inside of him and Stan’s thighs began to shake. “N-need your cock,” Stan stuttered out. 

“Yeah?” Mike asked, pressing a gentle kiss against his boyfriend’s cheek as he pulled his fingers out. 

“Mhm,” Stan managed to say. He nodded, breath slightly ragged. And sure enough, he soon felt the tip of Mike’s cock pressed right against him, a hand on his back to bend him over the filing cabinet again. Mike relished in the feeling of Stan pressing right back against him before he bottomed out, his hip bones pressed right on Stan’s ass.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mike groaned as he slammed back into Stan hard. Stan let out a moan instantly, the pleasure of Mike’s cock so deep inside him was too good to describe.

“Mikey,” Stan hissed as his boyfriend began a steady pace, the tip of his cock brushing against his prostate. “Nngh” he grunted out, his chest stuck against the top of the filing cabinet due to sweat and Mike pinning him down to keep him upright. “Faster,” Stan cried out, “Please, fuck, please,” elongating his words with a whine. 

Mike was jack-hammering into him at this point as Stan lay below him. Mike rested a hand on Stan’s ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he felt Stan’s hole clench around him.

“You gonna come baby?” He asked, rolling his hips.

“Y-yeah,” Stan stuttered out.

“Yeah ?” Mike said with a smirk. “You gonna come for me baby?”

“Uh-huh” Stan moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Well then,” Mike said, leaning down so his mouth was right by his boyfriend’s ear. “Then come for me baby,” and with a slap to his ass, Stan released, his come dripping down the side of the filing cabinet as Mike continued to thrust into him, filling him up only a few thrusts later.

Mike pressed a kiss onto Stan’s cheek, flipping him so he could see his face and pulling out slowly.

“If you’re gonna react like that every time someone asks where the aviary books are,” Stan said, using his elbows to prop him up. “I’m going to tell my whole bird watching club I work here.”

Mike laughed, cupping Stan’s jaw before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He ran his hair through his blonde locks, twirling one of them with his index finger.

“I love you,” Stan snorted at that, laying a hand against his boyfriend’s chest.

“I love you too,” Stan said, pecking Mike’s lips quickly.


	3. Stanlon + Blind Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff, requested by tinyarmedtrex (aka Amelia aka an awesomesauce human being)

Stan fiddled with the hem of his robin blue polo shirt. His mom had bought it at Ralph Lauren last year and sent it to him for Hanukkah. It was his favorite out of all of his dress shirts, he prayed to god he didn’t spill ketchup on it.

It was all Richie’s fault that he was going on this blind date. Then again, it was usually Richie’s fault whenever he was stuck in some sort of situation. Richie had promised so many things about this guy he was meeting.

“Stanley,” Richie had cooed as Stan had gotten ready for his date. “He’s perfect for you, I swear!”

“Remember the last time you set me up on a blind date?” Stan glared daggers at Richie, the black haired boy wincing in response.

“How was I supposed to know he was a pretentious little asshole?” Richie whined.

“You have philosophy with him!” Stan said, throwing his hand up in exasperation. “And film studies! ‘He’s the nicest guy around, he loves Pulp Fiction! You’ll totally hit it off!’ I shouldn’t even go on this date Rich.”

“Stan,” Richie placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder as he stared in the mirror. “This guy is amazing. Honestly, he is the sweetest person in this entire universe. If things go to shit, I promise I’ll do our laundry for the next month.

Richie stuck his pinky out to Stan. Stan begrudgingly wrapped his own finger around his roommate’s.

“I’m holding you to it,” Stan said, as he slung his leather messenger bag across his chest before walking out of their shared dorm room.

That was how Stan had ended up here, standing in front of the campus diner where all of the theater majors waited tables and the culinary students experimented with new varieties of burgers. Stan checked his watch, he insisted upon wearing one, not only were they fashionable, they were constructive. Screw phones.

As he walked through the glass double doors, he saw a dark skinned boy sitting at a booth, staring through the window with his head pressed against the glass. Stan walked up to him tentatively.  
“Are you Mike?” he asked, tentatively preparing himself if the boy said ‘no’.

“Yeah!” the boy said in response, a wide blinding smile on his face. “You must be Stan,” he said as he stuck out his hand. Stan shook it gently, but maintained a firm grip. Business 101.

“Are you a friend of Richie’s?” Stan asked Mike. He let out a hearty laugh in response, the sound causing Stan’s chest to warm up.

“That’s one way to put it,” Mike said, resting his chin on his hand, elbow digging into the booth table. “I have Botany with him. Calls me his cute little farm boy.”

“He only signed up for that class because he has this whole backup plan if his theater degree doesn’t work out.” Stan said. Mike rolled his eyes, his smile still stuck on his face.

“He’s gonna start a pot farm isn’t he.” 

“Yup,” Stan replied popping the end of the word. “Why does he call you his cute little farm boy?”

“I grew up on a farm actually,” Mike said, glancing around for a server. “Fall was the best season. Always won prizes for the pumpkins and such at the state fair.”

The server arrived then and they ordered milkshakes and a large order of fries to share. Mike raised an eyebrow when he heard Stan’s order.

“Vanilla?” he asked once the server had left.

“It’s a classic,” Stan replied. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Some people think it’s boring,” Mike said. “To be fair, I’m not one of those people, vanilla is very underrated.”

“Thanks for appreciating my taste in milkshakes,” Stan laughed. “Why peach?”

“I’m from Georgia,” Mike said. “Best fruit ever and I will debate you on that.

“Not sure you would want to do that,” Stan said with a smirk. “Captain of the high school debate team right here.” Mike let out that same hearty laugh from earlier. Stan swore he had never heard a lovelier sound.

“I figured you were the smart type.” Mike said as the server set down their food. “Not gonna lie, I’m kind of glad we didn’t order anything they couldn’t fuck up insanely.”

“Oh my god,” Stan groaned. “One time I got a mushroom swiss burger here and the texture,” he started to gag just thinking about it.

“Trust me I know,” Mike said with a nod. “My friend Ben works back there actually. He says the culinary teacher wants them to ‘use their creative powerhouses’ whatever that means. He’s probably one of the only decent cooks back there.”

“Oh I know Ben!” Stan said, swirling his milkshake with a spoon. “I had English with him my freshman year. He’s so sweet.”

They continued talking, swapping milkshakes and sharing fries for the next hour. Their hands reaching across the table, inching next to each other slowly. Stan’s fingers crawled forward slowly, reaching out subtly to Mike’s long digits. Half an hour into their conversation, Mike’s hand was on top of his.

His hands were rough. Stan could feel the callouses on Mike’s palm on top of his knuckles. Mike’s thumb ran figure eights and circles over Stan’s wrist as they giggled over the dumbest of things. They talked about how Henry Bowers was expelled for taking a shit on the campus’ football field. They talked about how Mr. Grey had the best retake policy. It was nice. That was the word to describe it, Stan thought. Mike was nice.

He was more than nice though. He was gentlemanly. He liked lambs and was an agriculture major. He was charming, he was brilliant, he was beautiful. Mike’s dark chocolate eyes were something to swim in. If Mike was the chocolate river in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory, he would gladly jump in just like Augustus Gloop. God, my metaphors are always so fucking weird, Stan thought. Did Mike like Stan too? He would know by the end of the evening, wouldn’t he?

Mike walked Stan back to his room, their hands still interlocked. Stan stared up at Mike when they arrived, staring into his eyes hoping to spend at least five more minutes with this wonder boy before he had to endure Richie again.

“Can I have your number?” Mike said.

“Uh yeah,” Stan said, coming out of his haze. “Of course,” he smiled, eyelashes fluttering as he plugged his number into Mike’s contacts. “I had a great night.”

“Yeah,” Mike laughed yet again. Fuck, Stan would never get tired of hearing that oh so lovely sound. “So did I.”

Stan rose to the tips of his toes, pressing a kiss onto the taller boy’s cheek. Those very cheeks flushed and Mike’s blinding smile grew even brighter.

“Text me, yeah?” Stan asked, his hand wrapped around the door knob his back was pressed against.

“Of course,” Mike said. “See you around Stan,” he continued, shooting him a kind and flirty wink.

Stan pulled himself into his dorm room, his back hitting the other side of the door. He smiled to himself, looking up at the beige ceiling above him. 

“How was Mikey?” Richie asked, looking up from his laptop, a shit eating smirk spread across his face.

“Beep Beep Richie,” Stan said before crashing face first into his bed. His now red and blushing face smothered by his pillow.

Maybe blind dates weren’t so bad after all.


	4. Stenbrough Soulmate AU

Bill was used to hearing the piano. His mother played it, he took lessons in Kindergarten, and he heard it from his soulmate. Rumor has it you can hear the same song as your soul mate, and just about everyone attested that the rumors were true. 

It seemed that his soulmate always had the same song stuck in his head at all times, yet BIll still couldn’t figure out what it was. Often he heard the same piano intro over and over again, its appreggios cadencing up and down in the same octave. Sometimes he heard snippets of words, but they always faded in and out like a shitty radio connection.

At school, Bill hoped he would hear the song coming from the choir room, from a practice room, maybe off of someone’s bluetooth speaker. But he had no such luck. Trying to figure out the song wasn’t working either, it seemed that the internet loved to fail him when it came to matters about his soulmate. 

The rest of the Loser’s club silently understood Bill’s frustration despite him never telling the others about his confusion over the song. Richie and Eddie were the only two who thought they might have a clue as to who their soulmates were. Afterall, two people can only have All Star by Smash Mouth stuck in their head for so long before complaining.

But Bill couldn’t take the mystery. He couldn’t handle the drama (even though Richie would say he was quite overdramatic himself). Bill thought about talking to Stan about it, if anything he would be the one to understand. But something pulled him back.

Was it the worry that Stan would make fun of him? Was there some sort of rejection Bill was trying to avoid? He wasn’t sure. So he pulled away and kept his thoughts to himself, desperately trying to search for the song as he did everyday.

Each day he would hope for more words. For the signal to become stronger, but it rarely happened. Until one day, he heard lyrics.

“In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun. Oh, dear, you look so lost. Your eyes are red when tears are shed. The world you must have crossed, you said”

And as soon as it came, the shitty radio signal faded out again. But Bill had a lead, and that was all it took.

He listened to it everyday. Maybe his soulmate would notice that he knew the song now too, that he found a connection. Bill still hoped he would hear the song in public, possibly even at school. He was lucky enough that it happened.

The piano part sailed out of a practice room during lunch. Bill had hardly recognized it as he passed by. He walked cautiously towards the sound, not sure if he was imagining things or not. 

And there Stan was at the piano, humming along almost silently as he played those same arpeggios Bill had been hearing for so long. Stan looked up in surprise before a smile crossed his face. He nodded his head, letting Bill know it was okay to come in. 

“I k-keep hearing that song ev-erywhere,” Bill said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” Stan said. “It’s called Boston-”

“B-by Augustana,” Bill finished. “I only figured th-that out a f-few days ag-go. Before that I c-could only h-hear snippets of the song. Li-ike the intro you were just pl-playing.”  
Stan glanced up at Bill from the keys, his eyebrows scrunched together. 

“That’s been happening to me too. . .” Stan trailed off. “With this other song. I think it’s called Pictures of Girls by Wallows?” Bill looked over at Stan before nodding his head slowly.

“Th-that’s one of my f-favorite songs I-” Bill stopped himself before realizing. “What if . . .”

“It’s a possibility,” Stan said, slowly reaching his hand out to grab Bill’s.

“Do you w-wanna try?” Bill asked, the words coming out slowly. Stan responded with a very slow nod of his head before glancing up at his best friend.

“Yeah . . .” his voice almost a whisper. Stan rested his head onto Bill’s shoulder, their fingers interlocked looking towards the future.


	5. Stanlon Coffeeshop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's actually based on The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals motherfucker . . . . . . Watch it.

Stan stood outside the door of Beanie’s while he bounced up and down on his heels. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying desperately to forget Mr. Grey singing about his wife and their sexual habits.

“Okay,” Stan nodded as he blinked rapidly. He gazed around the street he was standing on. “Okay.” A pause. “Ohhhhhhh-kay. Okay, okay, okay, okay. . . . . . Okay.”

He walked into the store, still nodding as he tried to maintain his composure. As he strolled to the counter and slapped his palms on it before he screamed;

“Hello! GOD please somebody, anybody I just want a black coffee!”

Then, through the coffee shop, he heard a short piano intro that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, causing shivers to run through his body. Approaching from the back, Mike emerged with a coffee pot while he started to sing sweetly.

“Black coffee, I’m your coffee g-”

“nOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Stan hollered, causing Mike to jump in surprise.

“Jesus, Stan,” Mike said, running to the other side of the counter. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” Stan sighed, still slightly shaking. “We need to leave now.” 

“Woah, Woah,” Mike laughed nervously. “Slow down Stan, what’s wrong?”  
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Stan said, shaking his head, his blonde curls flopping. “So I need you to promise me you’ll think about the implications.” Mike blinked, clearly confused as Stan firmly gripped his shoulders. “Promise me!”

“Okay, I promise!” Mike said, almost defensively. Stan took in a deep breath.

“I think the world is turning into one big musical.” There was a beat of silence. “Are you frightened?” Stan cried, his fear evident from the sweat running down the nape of his forehead and neck to his darting eyes.

“Stan,” Mike said gently as he removed Stan’s hands from his shoulders. “I know you hate musicals. . .’

“This is more than that though Mike! You’ve gotta believe me. Please, you have to,” Stan begged. But Patrick and Henry’s voice interrupted their conversation.

“Mike,” they called in an eerie unison.

“Fuck, I have to do this dumb tip song.” Stan looked like he was about to collapse. “We’ll talk about this later, sit down.”

Stan sat in a red armchair as he desperately clung to the velvet sides. He realized he still hadn’t gotten his black coffee. Stan watched the baristas dance. Their song was reminiscent of a barber shop trio rather than a quartet, the tight harmonies fitting perfectly. Mike glanced over to Stan with a grimace as he passed out cups of coffee.

“Get your cup of roasted coffee. Your morning cup’a joey. We’ll make a jammin’ cup of java, mocha latte with the froth for you jack.”   
Stan could feel himself itching to leave. But he wasn’t about to let Mike be taken by whatever strange musical virus was spreading across Derry. Suddenly, Mike turned to Patrick and Henry confused.

“Did you guys add a B section?” Mike asked, his hands on his hips. “You know what? I’m done with this coffee shop. If I wanted to be in a musical, I would be in a damn musical.” Mike was pacing at this point before he turned to face his coworkers. “Yeah that’s right Henry. I was in Brigadoon in high school and I fuckcing killed it.” Mike untied his apron before throwing it hard to the ground. “I quit.”

“You can’t quit Michael.” Patrick and Henry said simultaneously in a sing-song voice. 

“I sure as hell can,” Mike replied, trying to push past the boys do the coffeeshop doors.

“The song is so simple,” his coworkers said. “We’ll teach it to you! Why everyone here will be singing it soon!” Their faces never moved from a plaster smile.

The patrons of the coffee shop started to cough, some of them collapsing and convulsing on the floor. Mike stared around him, eyes wide as Stan shot out of his chair, looking more terrified than ever.

“What are you talking about?” Mike said, looking at the helpless patrons.

“They’ve all had their coffee!” Patrick and Henry said in that same cheery voice. “Why the apotheosis will be upon them at any moment!”

The bodies began to rise from the ground, their eyes glowing an electric blue. Mike ran to the coffee pot where goop of the same blue shade leaked out of it.

“What the fuck did you put in their coffee?” MIke yelled as he dropped the pot in surprise, avoiding the newly shattered glass on the floor.

“Get your cup of poisoned coffee. . .” Mike screamed as his coworkers sung an evil reprise. The poisoned patrons rising off the chestnut floor.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” Mike repeated desperately as he backed into Stan. “Why are they singing? Why are they all singing??”

“We’ve gotta get out of here, now.” Stan said, pulling Mike out of the coffee shop door, never looking back. Whatever fresh hell this was, there was no way they were going to succumb to it. At least Mike didn’t have to work at Beanie’s any more.


	6. Fratboy Richie (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "#36 with reddie please?" - wild-zamboni

Eddie was at this stupid frat party for one reason and one reason only, to get fucked. If he was honest, it had been a while. And if he was even more honest, he was hoping one person in particular would be doing the fucking.

Richie Tozier was a loud-mouthed boy with hair like a bird’s nest and a personality as bright as his neon Hawaiian shirts. He also happened to be a member of Alpha Sigma Phi, one of the raunchiest frats on campus. While Eddie would never admit it, he had taken a bit of a liking to Richie. He hesitated to even think about why he was interested in him.

Was it because Richie was actually smarter than he let on and wrote some of the best American Lit essays Eddie had ever laid eyes on? Was it his nimble hands that could easily play a melody on a guitar with only a glance at a chord sheet and a handful of tabs? Was it his sparkling eyes that always seemed to have a bit of mischief in them?

Whatever it was, Eddie was drawn to it. Other people had noticed, other people being his best friend Stanley Uris. Stan was the reason why Eddie had been dragged to this stupid frat party. If he was going to have to stand on beer soaked carpet for hours, he was at least going to have a reason for doing so. 

He was currently in the kitchen, red solo cup in hand (you’ve seen movies) nursing some strange concoction of jungle juice that probably contained more types of alcohol than a liquor store. Leaning against the door frame, he sipped his drink, never once wincing at the taste of the harsh liquid against his tongue. Eddie looked out into the living room from his spot by the kitchen door, noticing all of the crazy college shenanigans surrounding him.

Stan had abandoned him long ago and was now currently being dragged into a game of beer pong by Bill Denbrough, another frat member from Alpha Sigma Phi who also happened to have a massive crush on Stan. 

Eddie’s good friend Ben Hanscom, who he had known since elementary school, was dancing with a red-haired girl that Eddie recognized to be Beverly Marsh, a fiery spirit that he shared his Thursday morning lab with. Mike Hanlon was in a corner, fiddling with the speakers that were currently blasting music into the frat house and was likely trying to improve the sound of the thumping bass that had Eddie bouncing from wall to wall.

That was when Eddie felt an arm snake around his shoulder, his body tensing on instinct.

“Relax sugar,” Richie’s smoky voice said. “It’s just me.” Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be relaxed,” Eddie snapped back, pulling Richie’s arm off of his shoulder and taking another sip of his drink. Richie only let out a boisterous chuckle before leaning into Eddie.

“I wanna kick Bill’s ass at beer pong and I need a partner,” Richie said nonchalantly as he towered over Eddie. 

“Wonder where you’re gonna find one of those?” Eddie replied, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at Richie. 

“Well. . .” Richie said, the smirk on his face creeping into his voice. “I was hoping you would help me.”

“And why exactly would I do that?” Eddie replied immediately. 

“Because I’ll peer review your next essay?”

“We always review each other’s papers Richie,” Eddie said, inspecting his cuticles. “Put another offer on the table.”

“I’ll take you out for coffee,” Richie said, Eddie’s eyebrows shot up instantly.

“And what exactly do I get out of that?” Eddie asked teasingly.

“Time with your favorite trashmouth baby,” Richie crooned, reaching down to grab Eddie’s hand. “Come on,” he called while he tugged Eddie towards the ping pong table.

Eddie stared down Stan from across the table, a silent battle between the two of them about who would win. Richie and Bill were having the same stare down between the two of them, but with shitty roasts rather than eye melting glances.

“You’re going fucking down Big Bill!” Richie hollered, his Joy Division shirt riding up his torso as he jumped up and down, knocking over several beer cans on a coffee table in the process.

“Y-you fucking w-wish trashm-mouth,” Bill spat out. Eddie let out a snort as he grabbed a ping pong ball.

“Enough talk,” he said, smacking his hands down on the table. “Are we going to play or what?” Richie let out a low whistle.

“Damn,” Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re hot when you’re annoyed.”

“Is that why you’re always fucking bothering me?” Eddie asked as he stared at Stan who was currently preparing to take his shot.

“Possibly,” Richie replied, scooting closer to Eddie and gently running a hand down on his back. Eddie tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his neck as Richie’s left hand inched closer and closer to the hemline of Eddie’s old track shorts. Eddie had never been happier that his ass was one of his best features.

“Aye!” Beverly cried out from the side line of the ping pong table. “Stop flirting and play the fucking game Richie,” she said with a wink.

“Oh fuck off Marsh,” Richie spat back before blowing a raspberry in her direction. She stuck out her tongue in response. 

While this was occuring, Eddie sank a ball in easily into one of the solo cups on the opposing side of the table. Bill chugged his beer in under fifteen seconds before grabbing his own ping pong ball, his eyes squinted and tongue stuck out while he tried to focus.

A few rounds later and they were down to one cup on each side. Eddie held his ping pong ball gingerly, focusing and aiming at the cup before tossing it in with a small plunk. Richie jumped backwards, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“We fucking won Spaghetti!” Richie crowed as he shook Eddie’s shoulders. He turned the other boy towards him so they were facing eye to eye.

The music was still roaring in the background as they looked at each other. Richie’s face was red from his childish victory but his eyes were still the same bright blue that always caught Eddie’s attention. Without thinking too hard about it, Eddie grabbed the sides of Richie’s face and smashed his lips onto his.

Richie’s eyes were wide in shock for only a split second before he kissed back passionately, his arms snaking down to rest on Eddie’s waist. Eddie felt that same shiver running down his spine from before as Richie hands moved dangerously near his ass and played with the waistband of his shorts. 

A short cough interrupted them.

The two boys looked up to see Bill and Stan glaring at them, an eyebrow raised telling them to leave.

“Bedroom?” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear.

“Bedroom,” Eddie repeated. Richie all but pulled Eddie up the flight of stairs leading to the house’s second floor. He almost tripped as Richie weaved his way through the swarm of people in the house before he found his back pressed flat against a bedroom door. 

Then Richie’s lips were on his again and he couldn’t think of anything else. He couldn’t remember anything else. Richie’s lips on his were the only thing grounding him in that moment as he felt his needs tremble. Eddie snaked a hand into Richie’s hair tugging hard which caused Richie to groan against Eddie’s lips.

“Fuck,” he murmured before placing kisses onto Eddie’s jaw. He nipped gently at first, his tongue gliding over the soft skin of Eddie’s neck before leaving harsh marks. They still hadn’t gotten into Richie’s bedroom yet. 

Richie continued to attack Eddie’s neck as he attempted to open the door. Once they were inside Richie’s room, Eddie was still against the door, only this time he was on the other side. 

“F-fuck,” Eddie whimpered out as Richie sucked on a spot right above his collarbone. Eddie’s hands roamed underneath Richie’s t-shirt, tugging up desperately before Richie raised his arms up so the shirt would go over his head.

Then Richie’s hand went immediately to Eddie’s shirt tugging up and discarding the shirt quickly before he looked down at Eddie’s chest.

“So fucking hot,” Richie murmured as his hands roamed down Eddie’s sides. Eddie rested his head into the crook of Richie’s shoulder.

“Could say the same about you,” Eddie replied into Richie’s skin before biting gently at Richie. Richie let out a groan at the slight pain of Eddie’s teeth on his skin before his hands continued down to finally grip Eddie’s ass.

“Fuck you look so good in these fucking shorts,” Richie groaned out. “So fucking pretty,” Richie continued as he kneaded Eddie’s ass. Eddie let out a series of little noises, gasps that he tried to hide into Richie’s skin.

“Uh-uh,” Richie said, eyes dark as he pulled Eddie’s head away from his shoulder. “I wanna hear you. **I love your cute little gasps**.” Richie gave a firm slap to Eddie’s ass that had him moaning loud.

Eddie retaliated by fiddling with Richie’s zipper. He tugged Richie’s jeans down.

“Need these off,” he whined causing Richie to chuckle. Richie obliged, kicking his jeans off before Eddie pushed him down onto the mattress. Eddie was quick to straddle Richie’s thighs.

“As much as I love your ass in these shorts,” Richie said as he tugged the waistband down. “I prefer them off.”

“I’d prefer your boxers off too,” Eddie replied cheekily as he reached down to palm Richie’s erection before pulling it completely out of his boxers. He tried not to gape when he saw Richie’s dick and he tried not to be pissed off that the rumor’s of its size were true. He failed at both of these.

“Cat got your tongue Eds?” Richie smirked.

“I can use my tongue just fine,” Eddie replied as he leaned down to suck Richie’s cock. “And don’t call me Eds.”

The moan that Richie released was straight up pornographic as Eddie’s mouth sunk around the head of Richie’s cock. He bobbed his head slowly, taking him inch by inch until he felt Richie’s dick hit the back of his throat, informing him to ignore his gag reflex. Richie’s fists instantly reached to the back of Eddie’s head, gripping his hair gently as Eddie moved his head and sucked on Richie’s cock.

“Fuck Eds,” Richie groaned. “Your mouth is like fucking magic.” Richie’s moans grew louder and louder causing Eddie to pull off of Richie’s cock with an obscene pop. Richie whined as Eddie leaned down to press a kiss onto Richie’s neck.

“Want you to cum inside me,” Eddie whispered hoarsely into Richie’s ear. Richie closed his eyes tight before letting out a very slow shuddering breath.

“I like the way you think,” Richie replied before pulling Eddie in for another kiss while he slid his hands under Eddie’s boxers to grip at Eddie’s ass yet again. Eddie whimpered against Richie lips as he snapped the waistband of the his boxers before pushing them down.

Richie’s index finger slid down in between Eddie’s cheeks as he ground their hips together. 

“Richie,” Eddie moaned as Richie swirled his finger teasingly around Eddie’s hole. “Lube. . .” he mumbled into Richie’s collarbone.

“Got it right here baby,” Richie whispered, leaning over to pull a bottle out of his night stand. Slicking up his fingers, Richie flipped their positions so that Eddie was on his back and Richie was leaning above him. Eddie slowly opened his legs, peach pink hole on display as Richie slowly sunk a finger into him.

Eddie bit his lip as Richie set a steady tempo and crooked his finger every once in a while. He looked up at Richie, letting out a shaking breath and nodding his head every once in a while.

“Please Rich,” Eddie whined, desperate for more. Richie didn’t need to be told twice as he pressed in another finger causing Eddie to let out another breathy moan. “Fuck,” Eddie repeated as he rutted down onto Richie’s fingers.

That was when Richie decided to crook his fingers in that sweet spot, making Eddie cry out. Richie swore he had never heard a sound more beautiful in his entire life. 

“I gotcha baby,” Richie said as he continued thrusting his fingers into Eddie. “You want more?” Eddie had never nodded so fast in his life. Richie merely chuckled as he pressed another finger into Eddie, his pace still steady.

“Need your cock,” Eddie whined as he ground down onto Richie’s fingers desperately. “Need it in me.”

“Lemme get a condom first,” Richie replied before kissing Eddie’s lips. He slowly pulled out of him as he kissed Eddie, wanting to sweeten the emptiness Eddie would soon feel.

Sure enough, Eddie whimpered once Richie’s fingers were completely out of him. Richie hurriedly rolled the condom onto his cock before lining up his hips to Eddie’s. 

Richie thrust in slowly, taking his time till he bottomed out into Eddie.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he hissed as he sunk in deeper, rolling his hips.

“You’re just fucking huge,” Eddie replied, his words slightly slurred.

“Always so snarky,” Richie said with a smirk before pulling his hips back and snapping them instantly causing Eddie to let out a high pitched moan.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he repeated the word over again, practically punctuating Richie’s thrusts. 

“You’re so fucking good Eds,” Richie growled into Eddie’s ear. “So fucking tight, so fucking pretty. You’re always showing off for me in class aren’t you. Always doing chewing your fucking pencils and kicking me underneath the table.”

Eddie whimpered as Richie continued to pound into him.

“Yeah,” Richie moaned out. “You always want my attention, don’t you baby?”

“You want it just as bad from me,” Eddie retorted before letting out another sharp groan as one of Richie’s hard thrusts hit straight on his prostate. 

“Touché,” Richie groaned, continuing to fuck into Eddie, ramming into his prostate over and over again.

“Fuck ‘Chee,” Eddie said, words even more slurred than earlier. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah baby?” Richie asked, his pace speeding up. “You gonna cum without me even touching your cock?”

“Uh-huhh,” Eddie groaned out. “You’re so fucking good.”

“So are you baby,” Richie said. “I’m getting pretty fucking close too.”

“Yeah?” Eddie whined out, cupping Richie’s cheek so that their foreheads were pressed together. 

“You’ve gotta cum first baby,” Richie replied, voice dark and gravley. “You gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for me?” Eddie merely whimpered as he felt his cock begin to twitch.

“I’m so fucking close, fuck,” Eddie cried out.

“Come on baby,” Richie growled before kissing Eddie hard on the lips. “Cum for me.”

And with Richie’s words, Eddie was cumming all over his stomach. Richie continued to thrust into him, albeit slower, as he reached his climax.

“Come on Rich,” Eddie whispered against his lips. “Come on baby, you gonna fill me up?”

“I’m close I swear,” Richie said before nipping teasingly at Eddie’s lower lip. 

“Cum baby,” Eddie said, peppering kisses onto Richie’s jaw. He let out a shuddering groan as he emptied into the condom, his head collapsing onto Eddie’s chest.

Slowly, Richie pulled out of Eddie and tied the condom before throwing it in a trash can. Hastily he cleaned himself and Eddie up with some baby wipes before lying down in bed next to him. 

“Hey,” he whispered, staring at Eddie’s hair fanned out across one of his pillows.

“Hey yourself,” Eddie whispered back, head turned to look back at the boy next to him.

“I need you to promise me something?” Richie asked hesitantly. Eddie’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“What is it?” he asked, his hand reaching down to grab Richie’s. The action caused Richie’s heart to leap into his throat for a split second before he composed himself.

“Don’t leave in the morning,” Richie whispered. “I mean. . .” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Richie looked away from Eddie, eyes suddenly fixated on the ceiling above him.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Eddie replied, scooching closer to Richie so he could lay his head on Richie’s chest. His hair tickled against the hickeys he had left on Richie’s neck. “After all,” Eddie continued. “You do owe me coffee.”

Richie let out a snort before looking down at the shorter boy, who was currently gazing up at him as if he held the world in his hands.

“I suppose I do Spaghetti,” Richie replied, running a hand through Eddie’s hair.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Eddie groaned causing Richie to laugh. Sex with Eddie may be amazing, but he was expecting that taking him on a date would be even better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! This got long so this is going over here rather than dialogue prompts. Yowza. Find me on tumblr @marsisaplanetyall


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